Holiday Spirit
by NullNoMore
Summary: Nopon and Ma-non ingenuity, applied to human problems. The xenos are the saving of us all. Plus, the hats Nopon make are adorable. Happy holidays of all sizes and colors, and I hope you get something nicer than this. All the good things belong to Monolith Soft.
1. Holiday Sweater

**a/n: It's the holiday season, and let's have something free of angst. Have I mentioned how much I love the xenos of Xenoblade X?**

 **Set after Ch. 5 but long before Ch. 12.**

 **All good things belong to Monolith Soft, and when they port XCX to the Switch, can we please have this as new fashion gear? Lila and Twyleth are mine, btw.**

* * *

Lila examined the rounded package, wrapped in a golden film, that her Ma-non technician was clutching to her small chest. "Well, sure, Twyleth. You can keep that in the station office. A present for Ricky Bobby?"

"No!" squealed Twyleth. "No, no, it's just a thing I promised to to to deliver, okay? To someone. Today." The short grey alien freed a hand long enough to pull her snout worriedly. "Do I have to get a present for Ricky Bobby?"

"Humans do that at Christmas, sometimes. Or Hanukkah. I don't get into it much. Not sure about Ricky Bobby." As she unlocked the door to a repurposed shipping container, Lila asked with mild curiosity, "Who asked you to deliver it?"

"Uh. Someone. With the Nopon Commerce Guild. I trust them."

"Ah. The competition. Don't worry. I won't tell Sakuraba Industries."

"It's only this one time, you understand?" Twyleth reassured her. She set the bundle quickly onto the sofa and skipped back out of the door. "I can't stay, so so so you can hand it over."

"Hey, you never told me ..." Lila exited, only to see the retreating back of the Ma-non femlae. Once again, Twyleth had demonstrated a speediness rare to her species. "I guess I'll figure it out as I go along then. If I get it wrong, it's not my fault. I hope." Lila shrugged and went back to the backlog of skells needing refueling. Something about the holidays was making it hard to keep the station staffed. If her employees grew any more irregular, she might as well fire them all and start from scratch. She was certainly going to have to handle most of the customers on her own until (and if) Gino came in for an afternoon shift.

This extreme multi-tasking had her jumping up and down ladders, flinging cables around, and calculating endless fuel balances, and thus kept her normal radar from noting a looming presence. It was not a small presence, being the largest mim ever made, and with not a gram of subtlety from blond cowlick to oversized work boots. Still, he hadn't taken a full breath to say "boo" or some other surprising shout when she turned, blinked up at him from the base of a skell and greeted him. "Hello, Commander. What brings you to our humble station? Taking a trip?" She popped to her feet and examined him calmly.

"I was looking for a friend of yours," he said, scanning the area uncomfortably.

"I think I understand. Are you expecting a package, maybe?"

"Shhhh." He leaned down. "I've gone to a lot of trouble and I don't want to blow it."

She lowered her voice. "Gotcha. In the office." He followed her inside. "Here you go."

"Mind if I borrow your office?"

"Uh, sure. I've got plenty to keep me busy. Take your time." She left him to his business, whatever that might be. But intuition kept her from leaving the immediate area. A moment later, the door opened and a hand waved at her, gesturing her to enter.

It took her a moment to register what had happened. There stood the Commander, and he was wearing a new tank-top. A knit one. A Christmas sweater tank top. In brilliant poisonous green, encrusted with glinting pure white snowflakes and gingerbread cookies in the shape of ... "Are those Nopon?"

"I don't know, and I'm beyond caring. Will this do?"

"For what? Signaling skell landings in bad weather?"

"Wait a minute, I forgot." He twisted his bulky arms behind his neck, straining the fabric's ability to stretch, fiddling blindly for something. Lila took a deep breath and felt a rush of holiday spirit. Suddenly, the tank-top lit up as a dizzying golden mist swept across it.

Lila goggled. "That looks like the sparkle of the Ma-non engines."

"Lord help me if I somehow start to levitate."

"Like Rudolf!" Lila tried very hard not to giggle.

"So will it do?"

"I repeat. For. What?"

"Ugly Christmas sweater contest. I'm representing the ECP administration."

"The rest of the divisions will be owing you drinks into Easter, sir."

* * *

 **a/n: I am hiding out from a holiday party, one that has really good punch and chocolate cheesecake, because I am good for nothing until I purge this from my brain. Happy holidays, kids.**


	2. Holiday Present

**A/n: Jack gives a colleague a present, because he's a nice guy. Spawned by some serious silliness on the XCX Tumblr Discord and an off-hand remark by SubspaceWarrior.**

 **All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, but I'm the one putting myself into hysterics.**

* * *

It was a few evenings later when the Commander once again appeared at the Sakuraba Auxiliary Skell Refueling Station 01. With Christmas only two days away, the missions had dropped considerably and so had her workload. The amount of forms required for business, however, had not decreased. She had answered the knock at the office door gladly. A little distraction was just what she needed before she finished the last of the daily paperwork. Her smile at her unexpected visitor had grown when she noted what the Commander was wearing. A tank top just as green and glittery and generally exaggerated as she remembered.

"Evening, sir. The party was today, I'm guessing."

"It was and is and still will be. But I'm beat. Mind if I drop by?"

"No, no, it's perfect timing, really." She stepped away and let him enter the shipping contain/office. She admired his sweater for a second. "Did you win?"

"Straight up I did. The Outfitters put on a good show, but I'm not the only one who thinks the world does not need weaponized sweaters."

"Well, congratulations." She eyed him with amusement. "I assume you have been properly rewarded, in liquid form."

"I may have been." He grinned down at her. "I gotcha something." He shoved a small paper bag at her.

"A present? But you didn't need to."

"Aw, you're okay, helping me out and stuff. It's not much. A bunch of the kids wanted to check out a new store, and I figured I better go along."

"So this is just a thing you bought because everyone else was doing it."

"It was a riot. Everyone was coming up with choice inscriptions. The guy got them done quick, but they're pretty good quality, I think."

"Gee, thanks." Still, she couldn't stop smiling, and she held the package close. She squished it slightly. It was soft and light, and she didn't hear any sound except the slight crinkling of the bag.

"Go on. Open it. I wanna make sure you like it."

She didn't need more encouragement. She unrolled the top of the bag and shook her present free. Her smile vanished a second later.

xcxcxcxcxcxcxc

"What. Is. This."

"It's your present." It had seemed like a good idea. At least at first. Maybe it hadn't felt so good as he'd tried to explain what he'd wanted to the store clerk. But he'd reassured himself, it was a good idea.

"Just how drunk are you?"

Vandham looked at her in confusion. Lila continued to hold the piece of cloth suspiciously, dangling from her index finger. "Not so much now. Not really. Don't ya like it?" He scrubbed his neck as worry started to grow.

"Is it even my size?"

"It should be. I showed the clerk, uh, how big it needed to be …." He cupped his hands in the air, demonstrating the curve and width needed.

Her stunned look reminded him of the clerk. The gift was now scrunched in her fist. Oh crap. He started to explain he couldn't take it back, because of the personalization and all. "Iron Heart." Right across the seat of the underwear. Pretty demure shorts, if you need to know, he hadn't wanted to insult her by buying anything too uncomfortable. Or scanty. That thought made him pretty uncomfortable. Right, he needed to explain. She was still staring him with growing horror. Oh crap oh crap.

That's when she suddenly broke out into wild laughter. She clutched the underwear to her chest and almost buckled from the amazingness of it. Eyes shut tight for a moment, then open with those silver sparks that rivaled the alien glow of his sweater. She fell back onto the decrepit office couch, still laughing.

"You … had … to … oh, please, shoot me now …" she managed. He sat gingerly next to her. He knew if he said anything, gave her the slightest pat, she'd probably fall off the sofa and curl into a fetal position, still laughing.

Her laughter turned into giggling hiccups, with her covering her mouth in an attempt to stop. Every time she shuddered towards silence, she'd look at her fist, still closed tight over the object, and start snorting and tapping the floor furiously with her toes. Finally, there was nothing but deep breaths and the occasional squeak.

"Right. I hoped you'd like them."

"I'm going to wear them. Every Thursday."

* * *

 **A/n: I wrote this a while ago, but never thought it was worth putting up. Thanks, brain. You just couldn't leave things alone, could you? If you ask nicely, I'll try and find what the other inscriptions were... (bless those weirdo geniuses of the XCX Tumblr Discord).  
**

 **So.  
What would your Cross chose as a motto  
For their Official Division Gym Shorts?  
The world needs to know.**


End file.
